loopstagirl

[loopstagirl]

A shout out to all the writers out there who don’t make the rec lists or have all the buzz or get all the traffic and attention or kudos. Your work is still valuable and appreciated and loved, and without you and your fics, fandom would be so much poorer.

Keep on writing and creating and sharing your works. You have an audience who loves you.

[loopstagirl]

No matter the mixed opinions about 2004 Thunderbirds, I probably quote that film more than anything.

Every time I start coming out of a depressive episode, I've got Lady P going 'Right, that's quite enough losing for one day.'

Every single time. And I love it.

[loopstagirl]

Whispering Wings

Merlin paused, adjusting the precious bundle in his arms yet again. Not that she appreciated it, however: Aithusa grumbled deep in her chest. Merlin didn’t hear her, but felt the vibration through his hand: she was sleepy, nestled into his front, and not wanting to move.

Given she was only a few hours old, she was heavier than he’d expected. It’d felt like a long walk up from the forest, but he’d do it again. She was so small, so perfect. There was no way he was leaving her out there. Kilgarrah had gone on about a dragon’s instincts and how they would keep her safe. Merlin’s heart didn’t care: he couldn’t leave her.

Not, however, that he had any idea what he was supposed to do now he’d reached the castle. Dawn had long since gone – he’d had to stop multiple times on his way back when Aithusa showed an interest in her environment and he’d explained things, regardless of whether she could understand him.

But his hopes of slipping in undetected were now slim: the castle would be bustling. Even more so than usual, given that the king and his closest knights had just returned from what they considered another successful quest.

Merlin snorted, and Aithusa rumbled in response, making him smile. He checked the coast was clear and slipped into the adjacent corridor. He hoped by taking the servant’s routes and keeping his jacket over Aithusa, he could pretend he was on an errand for Arthur if anyone asked. That was usually enough to stop any further questions.

His footsteps echoed off the stone, making him wince with every step. Stealth had never been his strength, but this was too important. If he could get Aithusa back to his chambers; hide her there while she grew bigger. Gaius would help him, but how to keep another secret from Arthur…

“There you are.”

It was the last voice he wanted to hear right now. Merlin looked up.

“What’re you doing?” he blurted out before he could stop himself.

Arthur stopped walking, one eyebrow raised.

“As the King of Camelot, I can do whatever I want,” he retorted.

Read More ->

#merlin #fanfiction #merlin fanfiction #arthur #merthur #aithusa #merlin/arthur #glompfest #loopstagirl

[loopstagirl]

Slippery Slope, Ch 2

Scott lay in the following morning.

He got to 06:02.

Then grew bored, and got out of bed.

He shivered as he glanced at the fresh covering of snow. He was already used to the tropical temperatures of their new home. Pulling on a sweater and socks, he moved on silent feet to the kitchen. His first stop was the coffee machine.

"Morning."

The voice was calm, and unlike Gordon's usual tone. But Scott was used to it: this was early morning Gordon, the focused and centred man no one else saw but him.

"Coffee?" Scott asked as a greeting.

Gordon moved closer. Without a word, the two of them worked together, passing mugs and milk between them. A few moments later, and they were curled up on the sofa, drinks in hand. Scott tucked his long legs beneath him, watching as it started snowing again. He wasn't used to this sense of peace.

"Missing your run?" Gordon asked.

Scott shook his head. "I'll still get a workout today. Missing your swim?"

Gordon nodded. "Long journey," he said. There was a bite of tension in his tone, but Scott didn't react. It would only irritate Gordon.

"You hitting the slopes today?" he said instead. Gordon grinned.

"Heck yes," he said. He also looked out the window. "Never done it before, though. Have you?"

"No," Scott said, uneasy. He didn't think one session on a dry slope years ago counted. While the vacation was a welcome break, Jeff's choice of destination was less so.

"Oh, you'll be fine," Gordon drawled. "Mr I'm-good-at-everything."

Maybe he could keep this secret for a little longer, after all?

Read more ->

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #john tracy #virgil tracy #gordon tracy #alan tracy #slippery slope chapter 2 #loopstagirl

[loopstagirl]

We’re fanfiction writers, of course:

We’re going to use song lyrics as titles.

We’re going to check for comments 30 seconds after we post something.

We’re going to have more WIPs than days of the month.

We’re going to use any excuse to post snippets.

We’re going to use ask box games to procrastinate.

We’re going to hype up our writer friends.

We’re going to scream, cry and throw up reading our friends’ work.

[loopstagirl]

Battle Scars

What is this - first Merlin story in nearly a year?

Arthur watched through half-closed eyes as Merlin moved around his chambers. He was sitting at his table, dressed for bed, firelight gleaming off damp skin. The bath had helped with the aches from the mission, but it hadn’t eased the sharp sting of multiple wounds.

He’d been lucky, though. Bruises, cuts, and minor abrasions were scattered across his body, but he’d made it home. The same couldn’t be said for all his men. Those who had returned were dealing with far worse injuries: broken bones, and wounds that had Gaius setting up a makeshift infirmary in a larger chamber further down from his own, unable to fit them all in.

Arthur once would’ve boasted it was skill that had kept him safe. But he knew those men, fought with them his entire life. As usual, it was as if something – or someone – was watching over him, protecting him from the worst of the battle.

“Is there anything else?” Merlin’s voice was soft. He’d even picked up a scrape of his own during the battle. While Arthur usually mocked him for hiding, this time, he’d ordered Merlin to run when he realised they were surrounded. It had somehow come as no surprise when the man refused and stayed in the thick of things. He was lucky only a few scrapes were all he’d suffered. More than lucky.

Read more ->

#merlin #fanfiction #merlin fanfiction #arthur #merthur #merlin/arthur #battle scars #one-shot #loopstagirl

[loopstagirl]

Slippery Slope, Ch 1

Given I'm on a roll at the moment, thought it was time to start posting a new story.

Scott shivered, zipping his coat further up as he stepped out of the car. The frigid temperatures slammed into him, but he tried to control his reaction.

"Friggin' hell!" Gordon didn't have the same restraint.

"What do you expect?" John joined them. "You've been in a heated car for an hour."

Gordon grumbled something under his breath, zipping his own coat, hands in his pockets, as he jumped on the spot.

John rolled his eyes, although it was barely visible with his hat tugged down and scarf pulled up. He seemed to take the cold weather in his stride. Scott wished he'd followed suit: he couldn't feel his ears.

"John?"

John looked over, and Scott nodded towards the driver. John headed over, speaking rapid French as he leant in at the window. Hiding a smirk, Scott turned to the trunk. John wanted to practice his languages, but it also meant Scott didn't have to stumble his way through the conversation.

Virgil fell into step with him. Scott offered a grateful smile, glad someone was giving him a hand. Gordon was still cursing and jumping.

He popped the lid, stepping back as Virgil dived in first.

But his brother didn't go for the top bag. Instead, he grabbed the handle of his own – from the bottom of the pile – and proceeded to try to drag it out, huffing and swearing as he did so. Scott was glad only the cab driver was around to hear them, given both Virgil and Gordon's language since arriving.

Virgil finally pulled his bag free, dropping it to the ground and looking at Scott.

"Could've helped," he panted.

Scott laughed. "Or you could've waited five seconds and helped me shift the ones on top."

Virgil stared at him. His hat was almost as low as John's, but Scott still saw the flush spreading across his cheeks.

More ->

#thunderbirds #fanfiction #thunderbirds fanfiction #tracy family #slippery slope chapter 1 #new story #loopstagirl #multi-chapter

[loopstagirl]

Midnight Snack

Just a bit of brotherly fluff for @flashfictionfridayofficial's prompt this week.

Word count: 1000

Scott’s senses were tingling.

With a groan, he threw back the covers and rolled from bed. There was no point trying to go back to sleep now. His brothers always mocked him for his ability to just know when something was wrong, but that didn’t stop them from listening to those same instincts when it suited them.

This wasn’t a collapsing building sort of wrong, though. It was much closer to home.

He padded out of his room on silent feet, not pausing to grab a top. The island was hotter than usual, and he welcomed any breeze he could find.

He pushed open Virgil’s door. A deep snore was his only hint there was someone in the bed. Despite the heatwave, Virgil was still buried under his covers, just the top of his head poking out. Smiling, Scott retreated and shut the door.

Alan was the opposite. Limbs splayed in all directions and lying on top of the covers. His head was thrown back, mouth open, but he, too, was fast asleep. Scott couldn’t resist watching the rise and fall of his chest for a few moments, finding it soothing. But it wasn’t Alan who needed him.

Habit made him open John’s door. Of course, the room was empty. Hovering in the doorway, he touched his watch, sending the faintest vibration up to space. If John was awake, he’d answer. If not, he wouldn’t feel it.

Nothing. His space-bound brother was also lot in dreams, although Scott prayed they were good ones after the few days they’d had.

He didn’t bother checking Gordon’s room. He didn’t need to now he knew the other three were resting. Instead, he stole downstairs, glancing into the lounge as he did so. The automatic lights were off around the pool: Gordon wasn’t out there, either. However sneaky he tried to be, he couldn’t get around the sensors – which was the exact reason their dad had installed them in the first place.

There was a light on, however. It wasn’t really a surprise it was coming from the kitchen. Scott nudged open the door, blinking in the soft glow. Gordon was sat on a bar stool, head resting in his hands, slumped against the table. He didn’t give any sign that he’d heard his big brother, but Scott knew he had. It was harder to sneak up on Gordon than him – and that was saying something.

He slipped onto the seat opposite, waiting. He didn’t say anything, knew he didn’t have to. It took a good ten minutes before Gordon lifted his head. He looked exhausted, red-rimmed eyes and dark bags betraying how much sleep he hadn’t been getting. But more than that, he looked miserable.

“Tell me,” Scott said softly. His tone was a mixture of command and plea, knowing Gordon needed to let whatever it was off his chest.

“It’s just…” Gordon breathed deeply for a few moments. But then he pushed himself into a more upright position and looked Scott in the eye. “So many rescues, lately. Do we even make a difference?”

Scott smiled gently. Gordon was always the lightest of sleepers out of all of them, and no doubt the heat had been keeping him up despite the tiredness caused by the rescues. But while exhaustion may have given voice to his words, it hadn’t planted that thought. Who knew how long this had been bugging Gordon?

“168,” Scott said. Gordon blinked.

“Huh?”

“168 people. That’s how many we’ve had contact with over the last two weeks. Sure, some of them would’ve been fine without us. But you know a lot wouldn’t have been. Especially those fires.”

“168,” Gordon repeated softly. “That’s how many we’ve-,” he trailed off, as if saying it was just too big.

Scott nodded. “Saved, yes. And 38 were you alone when you got that trawler to safety.”

“Well, Virgil-,”

“Gave you a lift there, and that was it. You saved those people, Gordon. You let them go home to their families and loved ones that night. Why don’t you ask them if we make a difference?”

Gordon managed a weak smile. But a shadow was shifting in his eyes. This wouldn’t be the end of it: the next hard spell would bring those same doubts back, for Gordon, or any of the others. But for now, Scott hoped that nightmare had been put to rest for the time being.

He stood up. Gordon looked surprised.

“That’s it? You’re going?”

“While my bed is calling me, no,” Scott said. He crossed the room, grabbing a couple of spoons before opening the freezer. The kitchen tiles were bliss on his bare feet. “There’s something we both need more than sleep right now.”

He heard Gordon shift behind him as he rummaged to the back.

“I’m not in the mood for a beer.”

Scott shot a scathing look over his shoulder. “Since when do we keep beer in the freezer?”

He pulled out his prize, dumping it on the table between them and passing over a spoon. Gordon’s eyes lit up.

“Chocco-chunk,” he half-moaned. “I thought Al had eaten it all.”

Scott winked. “I hid it the last time he was raiding the freezer.”

It was already half eaten. Gordon wasn’t the first to need an emergency sweet treat lately, and Virgil had helped him make a good dent in the ice cream last week.

As Gordon attacked it, smacking his lips in delight at the ice-cold sensation, Scott smiled and prised some out for himself. He wasn’t generally a big ice-cream eater – that was John – but there was something about a middle of the night crisis session where it was the only thing that would do.

As the coldness melted on his tongue and he felt his entire body temperature drop, Scott relaxed. Gordon’s shoulders had softened, his posture had straightened, and the look in his eye gave away Scott wouldn’t be getting much more if he didn’t hurry up.

In other words, back to normal.

#flash fiction friday #fff244 #critical ice cream #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #gordon tracy #one-shot

[loopstagirl]

Legacy and Destiny

For @janetm74, who requested this. It's kind of an added scene to my Thunderbirds/Merlin crossover found here.

-x-

Resting his elbows on the railing, Scott stared out to sea.

Events of the last few days were… baffling, to say the least. The island invasion by itself was enough; the fear of realising potential hostiles had snuck aboard Thunderbird Two.

But everything else?

How was he supposed to say two people from legend that weren’t supposed to exist had turned up on their secret island? Or Virgil seemed to possess gifts that were impossible? Or even how-

No.

He wasn’t going there.

Thinking about that damn sword made him shiver. He was scared of it. He’d handled enough weapons in his time, that wasn’t it. It was because he wanted it. His hand clenched on the railing. Even now, it called to him…

“Am I disturbing you?”

Scott looked around. Arthur was hovering in the doorway, albeit casting the sliding doors a suspicious look, not quite figuring them out. Scott shook his head, and the legendary ex-king, once-dead monarch of a mythical kingdom, stepped out to join him.

For a moment, both men stood in silence. Arthur stood with his hands clasped behind his back, feet shoulder-width apart. Scott smiled. It had taken him a while to stand at ease after he’d left the USAF, instinct making him slip into parade rest. Constant teasing from his family had cured him of that.

But then Arthur relaxed. It didn’t take long for him to mirror Scott’s position, elbows resting on the railing, also looking out to sea. Scott’s gaze returned to the rhythmic movement of the ocean.

“I remember when my father explained to me what being a prince meant.” Arthur’s voice was soft and Scott glanced over. The man continued to look out to sea.

“That it wasn’t just a title and status and didn’t mean I could do whatever I wanted.”

There was an embarrassed lilt in his tone. Scott had picked up enough from the jibes between Arthur and Merlin to know that even by the time Arthur had grown up, he still expected to get his own way.

“But that it was a responsibility. It wasn’t just my future; it was my kingdom’s future.”

“That’s not how our world works anymore,” Scott said. He felt he knew where this conversation was going and wasn’t sure he was ready. This was his home: he was the one in charge here. Yet he’d never felt so out of his depth.

“Where are the others?” He was deflecting. His brothers usually took the hint, but Arthur only looked at him.

“Merlin’s showing your brother some more tricks.” He was trying to shrug it off, as if it was no big deal, but Scott heard the respect in his tone. Arthur, who had lived in a world where magic was real, was impressed.

How was Scott supposed to feel?

“I understand,” Arthur said.

Scott raised an eyebrow. “Understand what?”

“How’re you’re feeling.”

Scott snorted. “No offence, but no, you don’t.”

“I didn’t know he had magic. My father taught me to believe it was evil. Every time I tried to challenge my beliefs, tried to see it differently, someone proved me wrong. Then I find out my manservant is one of the most powerful sorcerers.”

Arthur trailed off, and Scott glanced at him. There was an old hurt in his voice. Something he’d dealt with, come to terms with, and still got hit with the emotions when he was least expecting it. He didn’t sound so sure of himself any longer.

“I understand what it feels like to have everything you’ve ever known turn on its head.”

“Your best friend kept a secret from you. That’s not the same.”

“He’s not-,” Arthur sighed, then rolled his eyes. Not at Scott though; more at himself. As if there was no point denying it. “That wasn’t what I meant. I died. I finished my fight. Then I’m in this world where nothing makes sense. Where everything I knew and understood has faded into stories. My kn- my friends are with us. We’re all here. But nothing is the same.”

Scott turned, resting his elbows on the railing instead and looking towards the house. It meant he could see Arthur better. He’d never considered it like that: the feeling of being thrust into a brand new world. If he suddenly dropped into Camelot, Scott was certain he wouldn’t last very long.

“Even after all I’ve seen and learnt, this world is strange to me.”

“I don’t think that goes away,” Scott said with a smile. “We’ve seen things too; seen how low humanity can fall, and how high they can raise themselves when disaster strikes. The strangeness of the world makes it worth living in.”

He flushed. John was the one for speeches, not him. But there was something about Arthur… Maybe it was standing in the presence of someone who had once been a king, a ruler in a way so absolute that it made his father as CEO look childish.

Or maybe it was because the magical sword that had caused this entire mess had looked into their souls and seen them as equals.

Arthur made a sound of agreement, then sighed. “Learning what it meant to be my father’s heir was hard,” he continued, returning to their previous topic. “What was expected of me; what people wanted from me; how most would only see me as a prince, not a man.”

Scott jolted. They came from different worlds – but he understood that. As soon as his father had risen in the business world, there’d been a hidden pressure on him. He was Jeff Tracy’s eldest: he had to set the example to his younger brothers, shield them from the press and the questions by taking it on himself. Once the money started coming in as well, he had to protect himself – and them – for those who were only interested in his name.

He'd been prepared to dislike Arthur, wanted to hate the man who’d snuck into his brother’s ‘bird and caused all this chaos. He didn’t expect to understand him, much less like him.

“Why’re you telling me this?” he asked softly.

Arthur straightened. Their heights were identical.

“The sword chose you, too. It saw in you everything it takes to be a great leader.”

Scott couldn’t hold his eye. “I told you, this isn’t how our world works anymore. Being my father’s heir doesn’t me this will all fall to me. It’s not like that these days.”

“Isn’t it?”

Scott frowned.

“You wouldn’t take on the mantle of leader to protect your men – sorry, your brothers – from having to make those calls? Not shoulder the responsibility of dealing with everything that’s related to your name so they could live a life free of that burden? You wouldn’t lay down your life for them?”

Turning, Scott looked back at the ocean. He couldn’t look at Arthur. It was unnerving how right he was. These were the decisions that he’d been making since he was fifteen-years-old.

“I don’t inherit a kingdom,” he said. His tone sounded desperate. That damn sword had got in his head. It wasn't his destiny to become a great ruler. He was supposed to save the world; someone else was supposed to run it. Someone like his dad.

“You inherit a legacy,” Arthur said. His tone was soft. He took a step closer and, to Scott’s surprise, put a hand on his shoulder. Arthur didn’t strike him as the type of man to initiate contact.

Scott looked at him. How could a man who was out of his own time be taking this calmer than he was?

“Don’t make my mistakes,” Arthur said. “Don’t do it on your own.”

“He’ll never be on his own.”

Both men turned. Virgil was standing in the doorway. Sweat plastered his hair to his forehead, but his eyes were full of excitement. Scott knew his brother was trying to look serious because of the conversation he’d just interrupted, but was bursting to tell him something.

“What?” Scott sighed, although a small smile was tugging at his lips.

“Nothing.” Virgil tried to look serious. Scott rolled his eyes.

“Tell me.”

“Look what I can do!”

Virgil’s expression was one of apt concentration. A shimmering glow filled his eyes, making Scott uneasy. His brothers all had different skills to him, but he didn’t usually worry about them being dangerous (Alan and his racing was another matter). But this? Magic? It was so far beyond him, beyond any logical explanation, that he was uncomfortable.

“It gets easier,” a voice murmured.

Scott glanced over to find Arthur was watching him.

“After a while, you start to see a certain beauty in it. And it’s uses.”

“I’m not using him like a tool! Or a weapon.”

“It’s not your choice to make. He won’t give you that option.” Arthur was no longer watching Scott. His gaze had focused beyond Virgil, and Scott saw Merlin standing in the shadows.

When nothing seemed to happen, Merlin stepped forward and whispered something in Virgil’s ear. The artist nodded, then exhaled, regulating his breathing. Suddenly, one of the small plant pots that lined the balcony rose into the air. It hovered for a moment, then shot skywards.

Virgil gasped. Before Scott could react, a wave of power rolled over him as Merlin’s own eyes changed colour and the flowerpot settled softly back in its spot.

“Still working on it,” Virgil said sheepishly. Scott just shook his head. Half wonder; half bemusement. If someone had told him 24hours ago, he’d be watching Virgil do magic – real, powerful magic – he’d have said they’d had one too many.

“Impressive,” he said, truthfully.

Virgil wiped his forehead, his excitement fading now as he’d done what he wanted to do.

“I meant it,” he said, as if he hadn’t just levitated a flowerpot using magic. “He’ll never be doing this on his own.”

“See what I mean about choice?” Arthur muttered, but Scott could hear the smile in his voice. The king turned to face him.

“Embrace your legacy, your destiny,” he said, tone serious. Scott had to fight to keep his expression neutral at the formality of the words. “It was who you were born to be. The sword knows that. Only the worthy can pull it free.”

“Huh?”

“Long story.”

If Scott wasn’t mistaken, Merlin was shifting uncomfortably behind Virgil.

Arthur stepped forward, heading back inside. Scott called him back.

“What if I’m not worthy?” If anyone other than Virgil was present, he’d never dare say it. “What if it’s wrong?”

To his surprise, Arthur smiled. "That you think so shows it’s chosen well. No one who deserves power chooses it.”

Merlin suddenly snorted, ruining the moment, and Arthur rolled his eyes.

“How did you bring it back down?” Virgil asked Merlin. It seemed an abrupt change of topic, but Scott knew his brother. Or, rather, Virgil knew him. He was giving him space to process his thoughts, taking the attention off him for a few moments.

Merlin glanced at Arthur.

“May I?”

“May you what?”

“Show him.”

“You’re asking permission?” Arthur sounded incredulous and Merlin shrugged.

“Feels like the right thing to do after that speech,” he said, the glint in his eye having nothing to do with magic this time.

“Since when has it mattered to you if I give you permission or not? You never do as I say, never have.”

“I do, too!”

“Name one time you did what you were told.”

“When you threw me out of your rooms when Bayard came to Camelot after you were crowned.”

Arthur snorted. “You weren’t doing as you were told: you wanted a day off.”

“Which you never gave me.”

“You did no work to warrant one.”

“I was too busy saving your life!”

“Of course you were.” Arthur’s tone was dry. “Being the youngest First Knight of Camelot counted for nothing, then?”

“Not against magic, it didn’t.”

The pair moved inside, still bickering. Scott caught Virgil’s eye, and as soon as his brother’s lips twitched, laughed. Virgil came to join him, resting his forearms on the railing and staring at the ocean.

“Okay?” he asked causally. Scott mirrored his position.

“Says the guy who just floated a flowerpot with nothing more than his mind.”

Virgil shrugged. “That’s new and exciting. You’re dealing with something that you’ve always known and never wanted to accept.”

“What’s that?”

“You’re our leader, Scott. Sure, Dad’s our commander, but it’s always been you we’ve followed, ever since we were kids.”

“That’s what being a big brother is all about,” Scott said. “You know that.”

Virgil just smiled at him. “It’s more than that, and you know it.”

Scott didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. He had always known in. He’d taken the lead when they were children, blaming it on being the eldest. But then he’d become a captain in the USAF with his own team, slipped into the role of Field Commander when International Rescue was established…

Arthur had a point. Being his father’s heir didn’t mean inheriting a kingdom like it might have done in the past. But it meant something. Something he planned to live up to.

“C’mon.” He pushed away from the railing and headed back inside. “I’m not sure we want those two running loose around the island.”

It wasn’t about trust. It was more that one had powerful magic Scott didn’t understand, and the other was a strong king who had no idea how a microwave works.

#thunderbirds #merlin #fanfiction #thunderbirdsxmerlin crossover #scott tracy #virgil tracy #arthur pendragon #magic!Virgil #thunderbirds fanfiction #merlin fanfiction

[loopstagirl]

Thunderbirds request:

Alan making a mistake on a rescue that Scott covers and is then blamed for.

Intriguing... let me see what I can think of!

[loopstagirl]

You did a fantastic Thunderbirds/Merlin crossover. How about a snippet of conversation between Scott and Arthur about being the heir.

Ooh thanks, I'll get the muse fighting these two stubborn boys!

[loopstagirl]

Prompt request

The words are flowing.

I'm making writing back into a habit/priority.

Hit me up with any ideas you want to see me write while I'm on a roll!

#Merlin fanfiction #thunderbirds fanfiction

[loopstagirl]

Don't you just love it when stoic/hardworking whumpees pretend that everything's fine when they're sick because they don't want to let go of the facade they've created for themselves... only to wake up on the floor surrounded by the very people they didn't want to worry, having just passed out from the very high fever they're running?

#scott tracy

[loopstagirl]

Sheer and utter perfection, this was terrifying in the best possible way!

hello! Can I please ask for number four on the febuwhump list with Scotty?

Mind Crime c1: Commencement

@febuwhump day 4: Obedience

With thanks to @the-original-sineater and @mariashades

Warnings for mind control

~

‘Rise and shine, Soldier.’

There was a kick to the bed and before he knew it Scott was up and standing to attention. His brain didn’t kick in for several seconds and he was thankful for the muscle memory and the ingrained obedience he’d learned firstly from his Dad and then from the USAF.

As his brain caught up with him he frowned. Something…something wasn’t quite right. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but then he didn’t have time to ruminate on it – the demands of being a soldier kept him too busy to dwell at the moment. The man who had woken him was long gone by the time Scott realised what he should be doing next.

Ablutions complete, Scott returned to his bunk and surveyed the room. There was a vague stirring in the back of his mind that the room wasn’t right, that there should be several bunks in here, but the more he tried to catch the thought the more it refused to be tied down and the more Scott began to realise he’d woken up with a headache. Still, he’d worked with worse so he dressed in his fatigues and laced up his boots and thought about the day.

It was a with some concern he realised that he didn’t know where to go for the mess hall.

His room door opened and a petite blonde woman with the caduceus on her sleeve and the name FURORE, H. on her uniform stood before him, a tray with some medication and a drink on it in her hands. Scott stood aside and allowed the woman entry.

‘Major Tracy, how are you this morning, sir?’ ‘I’m fine.’

Now why did he say that? He wasn’t fine, not by a long shot, but for some reason it was the answer readily on his tongue.

‘Good. Here are your meds, Major. Once you take them I’ll escort you to the mess to get breakfast before your appointment.’

Scott didn’t want to admit that he didn’t know what the medication was for, nor what the appointment was either, but he was a soldier through and through, and he took his meds without hesitating and followed the woman out into the hall.

There were few people in the small mess hall, and it began to occur to Scott that he was either in the officer’s mess or he was in some kind of military hospital. There were so many things he couldn’t remember but he sat where he was directed and ate what he was given. Eggs, cornbread and orange juice and plenty of bitter black coffee.

Afterwards she came back and escorted him through the small building to a small room. A desk, three chairs and a side table. Behind the desk sat a man in full Colonel uniform. He was busy working at something, the light shining of his bald head.

Something stirred in Scott. Fear. Something about this man was triggering Scott’s fight-ot-flight reflex, and he found it difficult to raise his eyes from the floor.

He suddenly became aware that the medic had gone, that the door was closed, and that the Colonel was watching him.

It was an effort to override his instincts – instincts that had saved his life on more than one occasion – but Scott mastered himself, forcing his body to obey his mind, and stood to attention. The Colonel smiled at him and he bit down hard to suppress a shudder.

The man’s eyes were a weird yellowish-hazel. But they seemed hypnotic, and once he looked Scott found he couldn’t look away. The skin around the Colonel’s eyes crinkled and Scott realised he must be smiling, but it took some effort to pull his eyes away to look at his commanding officer as a whole.

‘Stand easy, soldier.’

Relaxing into the correct posture, hands clasped behind his back and knees soft, Scott waited. The Colonel looked him over with an apprising eye and then nodded.

‘Take a seat, Major.’ ‘Yes, Sir.’

Scott waited as the man picked up the pad he’d been reading and glanced over it again.

‘The medic tells me you are more yourself this morning, more ‘with it’ as she says than you’ve been since you were rescued.’ ‘I – I don’t remember.’ ‘I know. The doctors have discussed your unique situation with me.’

Again the man smiled. Scott didn’t like that smile. It was too intimate, promising that he knew something Scott didn’t, and that whatever that information was it was important, something that would explain the increasing uneasiness creeping up Scott’s spine and nestling in his belly.

A sudden piercing pain lanced through his head and Scott stumbled backwards. That feeling of ‘flee!’ was overwhelming. He became aware that the Colonel was calling his name but when he looked back up the man’s eyes were flashing and he found that he couldn’t move.

The Colonel’s face broke out in beads of sweat as his eyes continued to glow and Scott continued to struggle. He couldn’t break free, though, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away. Suddenly there was the prick of a needle and the cold feeling of sedation spread up his arm.

Just before he passed out completely Scott was sure the man’s eyes returned to normal and he collapsed back into the chair as sleep completely claimed Scott.

‘Rise and shine, Soldier.’

There was a kick to the bed and before he knew it Scott was up and standing to attention. His brain didn’t kick in for several seconds and he was thankful for the muscle memory and the ingrained obedience he’d learned firstly from his Dad and then from the USAF.

Ablutions complete, Scott returned to his bunk and surveyed the room. Scott began to realise he’d woken up with a headache. Still, he’d soldiered on with worse so he dressed in his fatigues and laced up his boots and waited at the door for the medic.

His room door opened and Furore stood before him, a tray with some medication and a drink on it in her hands. Scott stood aside and allowed her entry and she smiled at him.

‘Major Tracy, how are you this morning, sir?’ ‘I’m fine.’ ‘Good. Here are your meds, Major. Once you take them I’ll escort you to the mess to get breakfast before your appointment.’

Scott was a soldier through and through, and he obediently took his meds without hesitation or question and followed the woman out into the hall and into the small mess hall. Eggs, cornbread and orange juice and plenty of bitter black coffee sated his appetite and soon they were moving on to

Afterwards she came back and escorted him through the small building to a small room. A desk, three chairs and a side table. Behind the desk sat a man in full Colonel uniform. He was busy working at something, the light shining of his bald head.

‘Stand easy, Major Tracy.’ ‘Sir.’ ‘Please sit. We have much to discuss.’ ‘Yes, Sir.’

Scott sat. The Colonel looked at him and smiled.

‘How are you this morning?’ ‘I’m fine, Sir.’ ‘Come now, Tracy. Be honest with me.’ ‘I took my meds this morning. I have a slight headache but I actually do feel fine, Sir.’ ‘Excellent news, Major. What can you remember?’ ‘I assume that something happened to me and that’s why I’m here in some kind of military hospital. But I don’t remember much. In fact, I don’t remember anything.’ ‘Well, you are right. You were on a mission that went wrong and we lost you for a while, but you were rescued around six weeks ago. I’ve been told to give you only the basic facts. You need to remember this stuff for yourself if you are going to get better, although that might take a while.’ ‘Yes, Sir. That makes sense. I – I’m eager to get back to work, sir.’ ‘I bet you are! I want you back too, but not before you’re ready. The medics say at least another week on the medication before they will think about weaning you off and then we can talk.’ ‘Sir, yes sir. I guess that I still have a mission to fulfil?’ ‘When you’re up to it, Major Tracy. When you’re up for it. For now I want you concentrating on getting better. There’s some light paperwork in your room for the time being.’ ‘Thank you, sir.’ ‘Dismissed.’

Scott saluted and marched smartly to the door. His hand was on the handle when the Colonel spoke again.

‘It’s good to see you back again, Scott.’

Smiling to himself, Scott nodded and left, closing the door behind him and returning to his room. He’d see Furore later no doubt, when it was the next time for his medication.

As soon as he’d gone Havoc slipped into the ‘Colonel’s’ room.

‘How’s it going, Boss?’ ‘Like a dream, Havoc. Tracy is almost ready for the mission we want him to do.’ ‘He honestly thinks he’s still in the military?’ ‘Yes. Interesting what a couple of drugs can do to a person. He’s almost completely obedient to my command. Soon – soon we’ll have him fully in our control.’

The Hood turned to the window, ignoring Havoc’s smirk.

‘I hope you’re ready to get your boy back, Jeff,’ he murmured.

[loopstagirl]

I actually posted a new book review... shock horror, I know!

#book review #science fiction

[loopstagirl]

[loopstagirl]

Any chance of drawing Gordon getting congratulated by the others after winning the Olympics??

Somehow my brain translated that as ‘scribbly Tracy family dogpile’ and…

they literally all just jump on him, not caring that he’s soaking wet and getting crushed under the combined weight of four brothers and they’re all screaming and fighting to ruffle his hair and Gordon’s just in his swim trunks with his shiny shiny medal like get off guys oh my god you’re all so embarrassing ahhhhhh u dweebs ur supposed to be cool this is on live tv stop it oh no